The Child of Seras
by MindAsylum
Summary: Even as a true Nosferatu, Seras cannot bring herself to let one boy die.
1. Chapter 1

"Seras Victoria," began Integra, gazing out of the blinds of her dark, stuffy office, "Do you care to explain precisely what occurred tonight, at the 'Typical Freak' club?"

Seras swallowed hard. She had taken orders from Sir Integra Hellsing long enough to know what this cold, heart-carving tone meant. If her explanation did not satisfy her, it wouldn't end well. She forced down the knot in her throat, and began.

"It was 2200 hours. We deployed in two strike teams, one for the right flank, one for the—"

"I am very aware of the tactical situation, Victoria. If you could skip to the part I am concerned with…"

She denied herself another hard swallow. "Yes, sir. When we burst through the doors, the attack was well underway. Most of the people had been turned ghoul, and there were two vampires commanding them. They were easily dispatched. Alucard was disposing of their leader. Seeing that he was outnumbered, a third vampire fled, taking what I thought was a dead body of a boy with him. I chased after him, and landed a hit, in midair, as he was leaping over a wrought-iron fence. He was killed, but dropped the boy, impaling him against the fence. I…realized that he had been alive all this time, only unconscious, up until then."

"And?" Integra urged, irritated.

Seras remembered it all so clearly; the boy, hunched over the fence, the tips of it coming out of his back. The desperation, confusion, agony contorting his soft, near angelic features. His pitifully gurgled attempts at speech as blood spewed out of his mouth.

"Please understand, Sir, there was nowhere near enough time to get a medical unit to him. He had two minutes to live, at best. And it was…"

"Your fault?" finished Integra, more a direct answer than a suggestion. "And, like a little girl finding a lost puppy, you decided to adopt him. The queen will be very displeased when she finds out that we have _another_ vampire in our employ. By all accounts, I should have him terminated by morning."

Seras clenched her teeth, not so much out of anger as lost hope.

"However…" she continued, "Over these last five years, you have proven yourself to be a skilled and competent addition to the Hellsing. Perhaps you can make the same of this…new blood."

Seras fought the urge to smile like a pleased child. "Thank you, Sir Hellsing. You will not regret this decision, I promise."

"But know this well, Victoria." warned Integra, finally turning to face her with her stern, frozen scowl, "I want _no more _vampires in this organization. Three is far more than we need. That goes for you too, Alucard."

He chucked in that omnipresent way of his, his voice coming from the walls themselves. "Of course."

"And remember, he's your responsibility. Your's and Alucard's."

Seras felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle slightly. Alucard had been a good, although harsh master for her. She wasn't sure how this new fledgling would take working with him, much less as a part-time master.

"Why mine, too, master?" asked Alucard curiously, stepping through the wall.

Still straight as a rail, Integra said simply, "Victoria may be a true nosferatu now, but you still dwarf her in experience. As such, it will benefit him to learn from you as well as her. That will be all."

"As you wish, master." Crooned Alucard, phasing back into the wall.

Seras marched out of the room and closed the door carefully behind her. She allowed herself a sigh of relief, knowing that her new fledgling was safe.

"How industrious. Not even one year a true nosferatu, and already you take a fledgling…I hope you are prepared for it." Alucard laughed.

"You make it sound as if I'm taking in a pet." Seras said, determined not to change her pace

"Aren't you? It was his eyes, wasn't it? Those big, blue, pleading eyes, just like a dog."

She groaned "Haven't you had enough fun tormenting that trash vampire?"

"Not as much fun as I'm going to have with this new one." In sight or not, Seras could feel that playfully wicked smirk stretching across his face.

Seras knew there was no point in even trying. "At least let him adjust first."

"No guarantees, Police girl." His presence faded from the hallway, as she walked up the stairs toward the infirmirary.

Her fledgling lay asleep in the second room to the right. She opened the door carefully and sat down in the chair next to him.

He was roughly sixteen years old, as Seras judged it. His skin had already paled; not that it had much color to begin with. Platinum blonde hair fell slightly over his face. She reached up and brushed it aside, and he shifted suddenly at the contact, and opened his newly-reddened eyes.

"It's…you."

Seras smiled warmly.


	2. Chapter 2: Born Again

Sorry for forgetting an Author's note last time. Funny, I began writing by with a fanfic, and here I am, a (hopefully) much more seasoned writer, doing fanfiction again. And it's all your collective faults, for writing such cool stuff. It make me want in on the action. Well, here is my next part of what I hope will be an interesting change from the typical "Hellsing new recruit" story (that's not to say there haven't been good ones, of course). Well here I am babbling when I should just let you read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing. It owns me.

Chapter II: Born Again

His eyes came slowly into focus on the face of the blonde girl he met before. He had never gotten a good look at her face, barely enough to recognize her. She was kindly, gentle, and most of all, beautiful. He felt…comforted, as a child would in the care of its mother.

"Are you an angel?"

She chuckled. "Not exactly. My name is Seras Victoria. What's yours?"

" Jake…Jake Rivers." He uttered, forgetting pleasantries.

"Nice to meet you." She said cheerfully. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know." He said dreamily, looking up at the ceiling. "It's strange. I'm not in any real pain…but it's as if my veins have been emptied out. I can't even figure out what's keeping me awake right now, or allowing me to talk to you…"

"Well, that's easy, you're hungry." Out of his field of vision, the girl took out a bag full of red liquid, reminiscent of a clear Capri Sun pouch.

"Can you sit up?" she asked. Jake nodded. She broke the top off it and handed it to him. She was clearly some sort of medic…that would explain her bedside manners and the fact that she was the last person he saw.

Too hungry to ask any more questions, he downed the entire bag quickly. It had a bitter, slightly coppery take to it, and yet he swore he had tasted nothing better.

"Better?" she asked, clearly relieved at something. Jake wasn't sure what.

"Yeah." He said, a little surprised as he felt his strength returning.

She paused nervously. "Jake, what do you remember about what happened?"

He looked away from her a moment, trying to pick through the linty haze of last night.

"Me and my friends are in a band. We were on our first tour together, from LA. We were doing this show at the 'Typical Freak' club as an extra thing, just to grab the huge paycheck they offered in their ad…and then."

His eyes shot open. He remembered a spray of blood in the crowd, panicked screams, people rushing toward doors that were locked. Seeing people getting… eaten? All before he was pushed of the stage and fell unconscious. "Oh god…my friends…those...things…what happened to my friends!?" he shouted, a little louder than he meant to. "Are they ok?"

Seras glanced at the tiles on the floor, and looked back up at him, her face downcast. "I'm sorry, Jake. They're gone."

Gone? How? This wasn't just some clique he hung out with on weekends, or a group of stoners that he hoped to grab a free ounce from. They were his band; his family, the only real consistency in a life plagued with failed chances and disappointments. He was nothing before them. And he was nothing now.

Jake found that tears were running down his cheeks. He reached up to wipe them, but found that they weren't clear and watery anymore.

"Blood…?" he mused, not quite understanding. "Are my eyes bleeding? What's wrong with my eyes?" he found he was trembling a little. Seras was looking at him awkwardly, searching for the right words. She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him.

"Listen to me. I know this is hard to believe, but the creatures that killed your friends…were vampires."

Jake's face went blank. She had to be joking, this had to be some kind of prank, where the hidden cameramen were waiting come out and say 'you got punkd' or something inane like that. He was looking for a crack of a smile, a tensed cheekbone, or some other sign that this wall all a cruel joke. Nothing. Just an apologetic grimace.

"I work for the Hellsing foundation. We're a secret order dedicated to the elimination of the undead."

Jake blinked.

"They used the club you and your friends were playing at as a deathtrap. That's why they locked the doors when it started. We got there as soon as we heard, but by then everyone, that is, everyone except you, was already dead. A vampire picked up your unconscious body and ran off, probably to use it as a hostage if we caught up to him. I shot him as he was jumping over the fence, and then he…dropped you onto it."

He remembered that part well enough. Suddenly realizing what that meant, he felt his stomach.

"No wounds…but how?"

"Remember when I asked you if you wanted to come with me? In order to do that, I had to… turn you."

"Into a….?"

"Vampire?" said a deep, fluid voice to his right.

Jake whipped around and saw a face he'd never forget. A pathological smile that could put the Joker to shame. Eyes as red and wide as streetlights. Even sitting down he could see he was huge, at least six and a half feet, but the worst was his teeth. The canines were lot longer than they should have been.

"Jesus…" he uttered.

"Not even close." He said, clearly amused at Jake's reaction. He straightened the collar of his long red coat.

"Dammit, Alucard!" shouted Seras. "I said give him time!"

'Alucard' looked slyly over to her. "Simply because you are no longer my fledgling, does not put you in any position to give me orders, Police Girl." He turned smoothly back to Jake's horrified face.

"Put simply, boy, you have been sired from my former fledgling, and thus, you now have the honor of being _her_ fledgling. She is your master, and you will treat her as such. Understand?"

"But…how could I be…a" he still couldn't bring himself to say it.

Alucard's smile widened. "Did you think that was cherry juice that the Police Girl fed you?"

Jake eyes darted to the empty bag still in his hands, and for the first time, read the label: Medical Blood, Type AB+. He flung the bag off as if it had stung him.

Alucard picked up a small, handheld mirror on the table beside him, and said, "Face it, you're bloodsucking creature of the night. You can either deny the fact, or," he brought the mirror in front of Jake's face, "You can look the devil in the eye."

Jake looked into the mirror, and realized, to his horror, that he was staring straight at an empty chair behind him, the one he knew Seras to be filling.

He stammered some nonsense for a while, trying in vain to keep his frail conceptions together. He watched Alucard leave, through the wall, and turned to his new master.

"What's gonna' happen to me?"

She placed her hand on his, somehow warm even though dead. His blood ran into his cheeks, and she smiled the same way she had before.

"Don't worry, Jake. From now on, we're in this together, ok?"

He and his world had been disemboweled just hours ago, and here, standing beside him, was the only person who seemed to give a damn. How could he not trust her?

"Ok…master"

I hope that wasn't too cheesy. Please review, it's been a loooong time since I last wrote a fic, and this is my first posting of one on this (or any) site. The next chapter will arrive.

PS (Massive amounts of Coke (the liquid kind) and Rock music were consumed in the making of this fic.)


	3. Chapter 3: Meet the New Boss

A/N Thanks everyone for the reviews, and here it is:

Chapter 3: Meet the New Boss

_October 12, Day 1_

_Post Mortem has finally lived up to its name. Frank, Hans, Stevie, and Belle are all dead, and technically, so am I. Killed by, and I can't believe I'm writing this, vampires. I only survived because another one showed up to kill them._

_They tell me I'm not really _alive_, so much as not dead. That's right. I, Jake Rivers, have been turned into the same monster that killed my friends. Lucky me. _

_It's not that I'm ungrateful or anything. Seras Victoria, my new "master" (since she was the one who turned me), has been good to me so far, and, even though it's probably not right to say it, she's very, very beautiful. That other vampire, though, Alucard, I think was his name; gives me the creeps. I can tell already he's not going to make this easy on me._

_ They both work for some secret government organization called the Order of Protestant Knights, or Hellsing, which, oddly enough, is charged with eliminating all undead. Apparently, they've got no issues using vampires to kill vampires. __Seras__ Master said she'd explain more later, that I should get some rest. I'm going to meet the head of Hellsing tomorrow night, I'm nervous as hell just thinking about it._

_I just left the sick bay three hours ago, where they broke the news to me. I met a butler named Walter, who showed me to my room. He looks like a mix between Alfred, Antonio Banderas, and the monopoly guy, but I get this weird feeling that there's more to him than just suits and smiles. Weird feelings; I've been getting lots of those lately. Weird vibes, weird looks, weird…urges. I kinda freaked when I saw that, instead of a bed, was a coffin. I _really _hate closed spaces. I'm not sure why, I've just always been that way. I'll have to be careful not to press the button that lowers the case._

_No one will tell me what it is I'm supposed to do yet. I hope whatever it is, Master will be there._

-------------- ---------------- -------------- ------------- ------------ ------------ ------------- ------------

Seras straightened Jake's collar and took one last look at him. Walter tailored the uniform himself, similar to hers; a blue shirt with two breast pockets, a pair of khaki pants and black boots.

"You look great." said Seras.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, thanks."

"It'll be fine." She reassured, "Just stay at attention, be respectful, and don't talk unless Sir Hellsing asks you something."

He nodded. Though nervous beyond belief, he was eager to please his Master, particularly one who had shown him nothing but kindness in the face of all the horrors he'd seen, and would no doubt see again. He forced a smile, which he was sure she caught. Nonetheless, she smiled back.

"Mr. Rivers," said a poise, elegant voice. "Sir Hellsing will see you now. This way, please."

"And remember, _always_ answer honestly." She reminded as she wished him well.

Jake followed Walter down the hall. He kept quiet on the walk, assuming that if he didn't he'd probably say something remarkably stupid in a compound full of people who, by the looks of it, didn't really want him there. Judgment lurked around every corner of this place. They passed a few armed soldiers along the way. A couple years of being a musician had done wonders for his hearing, so there surreptitious whispers of "_another _vampire?" and "I hear he's a yank" were perfectly clear to him. A long row of armored suits glanced coldly through him as they walked by. In fact, the only person he'd seen so far (besides his master) who didn't look at him as though he was something they wouldn't feed to a dog, was the man walking in front of him. Jake imagined it might have been his job that obliged him to be cordial, but he knew that there was more going on in his head than he let on.

They finally arrived at a fairly nondescript door, and Walter opened it, gesturing inside. Jake swallowed hard, just once. "Best not to keep Sir Hellsing waiting, Mr. Rivers." he said, in a firm, although pleasant voice. Jake nodded and walked through the door, expecting to see the King of Hell itself to waiting in the room.

What he found was even worse.

Long, whitish hair ran down pale cheeks, cut an inch or two below the jaw line. A pair of spectacles glinted in the frail light of the room. Jake didn't understand how anyone could see with the lights so dim. It was so quiet the subtle scraping of pen against paper seemed deafening to him. The noise faded away, and Sir Hellsing looked up.

_A woman?_

Apparently, she noticed his surprise. Her eyes narrowed. Jake felt two icicles piercing his chest.

"You're Victoria's fledgling, correct?" she did not say it loudly, but her voice held an overpowering presence, like the barrel of a pistol pressed against the throat.

"Y-yes, Sir."

She opened a file on her desk and fingered through it. "Jacob Rivers…" she said, as though the mere sound of his name was abominable, "You were taken into a Catholic boarding school for nine years. Do you still consider yourself of that persuasion?"

_Remember, always answer honestly. _"Um, no Sir. If anything, it kind of scared me away from it."

"Good," she said joylessly, "I cannot tolerate any vestige of popery in my ranks. What of your home country? Do your loyalties lie there?"

"Not really, Sir."

"Typical." she didn't scoff, but Jake imagined she did. She closed the file and looked back at him, and suddenly, his own sense of presence in the room went from small to microscopic.

"Let me appraise you as to the situation you have found yourself in. Your existence at this moment is made possible only by my own tolerance, not mercy. In return for your unlife, you are to assist the Order of Protestant Knights in _any _manner that is asked of you. Victoria and Alucard will be in charge of preparing you. Your task for now, however, is to show me that speaking to you was worth the five minutes of my time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir Hellsing." He said, feigning all the confidence he could muster.

"You are dismissed." She returned to her paperwork.

She didn't have to tell him twice.

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A/N I know there hasn't been much action, but I figure I need to lead up to it. One can't rush these things, after all. And in case you didn't catch it, the title is based off lyric by The Who, "meet the new boss, same as the old boss." Maybe I should name all my chapters after obscure song lyrics…. Just kidding. Anyways, I hope this was as faithful as humanly possible to the series, as I feel I sort messed up Alucard in the second chapter (In spite of how he's typically portrayed in fanfics, I'm not sure I subscribe to the whole 'mischievous' outlook of him). Anyways, everyone's reviews have been great, and trust, there is much more to come!


	4. Chapter 4:Training Day

A/N Well, I actually intended to get this done sooner, but here it is. It' a touch bigger than my other submissions, so I hope it was worth the wait. Keep those reviews coming, my friends, your every word may be essential to the completion of this work!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, but I _do_ own a computer that has a bunch of crap written about Hellsing in it.

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The target board slid toward Jake's booth at the range, and he looked at it dejectedly.

"God, that was terrible," he grimaced, "I didn't even hit the body."

"You said you've never shot a gun before, right?" said Seras.

"Yeah, but still…"

"Besides," she continued, taking the gun from him. "You're a vampire trying to shoot like a human. That never works."

"Then how do vampires shoot?"

"With their third eye." She said, as though it were a well-known fact.

He looked at her, incredulous. "Third eye?"

She smiled knowingly. It was sort of fun to play the teacher. She remembered how confused and, at times, powerless she felt next to Alucard. But she certainly wasn't planning on being quite so rough with Jake; he was a good deal younger than she was, and had no combat experience of any kind. He was literally a fresh student, hers to build from the ground up.

"Here, let me show you." She demonstrated, holding the gun's sight between her eyes. "If you _pretend_ you have a third eye, then your vision will be altered to where you can aim perfectly."

Seras fired. Headshot. Dead center. Fifty meters. Jake looked confused. She handed him the pistol, and she noticed, for the first time, that there were scars on the tips of each of his fingers and thumbs, extending underneath his nails a little. She'd ask him later. She didn't want to distract him.

"Ok…"he said, hesitantly, "Here goes nothing."

Seras watched as he cocked the pistol slowly, a little unsure of himself, and aimed the gun so as not to favor either eye.

"Third eye, huh?" he closed his eyes for minute, probably trying to picture opening another in the middle of his forehead. He opened his eyes. Aiming for the head, he held a breath that he didn't need to, and fired three times.

"Whoa…"

The target moved forward to show him the results, though Seras could already see the results. One shot at the neck, one in the eye, and the other pierced an ear. She smiled broadly at his awestruck expression.

"See? It's not so hard if you concentrate."

"Weird." He mused aloud. "It was like my vision sorta 'zoomed in' or something."

A voice resounded through the intercom and Seras' head perked up. "Squads B and C prepare for combat. Arrive at transport bay stat."

She turned back to Jake. "That's me. Probably just another freak vampire. I'll be back in a few hours. Keep practicing, ok?" She put a hand on his shoulder, and she couldn't help but notice that he tensed up ever so slightly. She ran off to the armory, just barely hearing his quiet "Yes, master."

-----------------------

As he had been doing for the last half hour or so, Jake sat in his chair, staring at the icebox in front of him. Inside it was a packet labeled: Medical Blood B-. Inevitably, the question refused to be answered, should he drink it?

Of course not. He didn't want to become a blood-hungry fiend. Surely, there had to be some alternative. Wasn't there?

But what if there wasn't? He didn't need to be told that he would only grow weaker the longer he held out, but wouldn't it show him to be weak, giving into the hunger so soon? Or was considered it weaker to resist? He idly wondered if B- blood tasted any different from AB+.

Instead of deciding, he turned his mind to his master. Even though she was probably used to dealing with monsters, he couldn't help but worry about her. Then he wondered, would she be upset with him if he didn't drink?

He sighed and took to glancing around his room. In the center was a wooden table and chair, which he sat in now. On the wall to his right was a special monitor to act as substitute for a mirror, though he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't the only one who could see the image on the screen. And to the left was his coffin, which he knew he would never get used to.

But oddly enough, that didn't bother him anywhere near as much as the walls themselves. They were made of stone. He wasn't sure what about that bothered him so much. It was just as well, right? Maybe it reminded him of a dungeon, or a prison. No, that wasn't it. Something else…

He heard a knock on the door. He took one last look at the blood pack, and closed the icebox. "Come in."

His master walked into the room. Relief washed over him. She didn't seem wounded, or even phased for that matter. Suddenly, thinking he had to show some level of recognition to her he rose/

"Why did you stand up like that? Did I scare you?" she asked.

"No," he started, "I just thought I should…"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, I'm not Sir Hellsing. You don't have to be so tense." She pulled up a chair.

_Thank God for that. _He thought to himself. "How did the mission go?"

"Just like I figured, just another freak vampire and his ghoul friends. It was over in less time than it took to get there. What about the range? How's your shooting?"

He shrugged. "A little better, I guess. My best grouping so far is five inches."

"That's very good for your first day holding a gun. Don't sell yourself so short."

"Thanks, master." He said bashfully.

His eyes shifted involuntarily to the closed ice bucket. Knowing she probably already knew his problem, he decided there couldn't be any harm in asking.

"Is there any other way to survive without drinking blood?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Well, you'd have to sleep in a closed coffin…"

His lips straightened. The terms "rock" and "hard place" came to mind. There was no way he could sleep in a space that tight. As far back as he could remember, he had been horribly claustrophobic. He was rushed to a hospital after nearly suffering a heart attack when a couple kids at school stuffed him in a locker. True, he no longer had a heartbeat, but still…

Reluctantly, he reached for the icebox, pulled out the bag of blood, and tore it open. He started at it for while.

"It's ok. I was the same way. For the longest time, I refused to drink blood. It got easier when I remembered that the people who gave this blood did it willingly. Try to think of—"

He suddenly kicked the bag back as if it were a shot glass, downing it all in three gulps. B- did taste slightly sweeter, but not by much. He wiped off his lips and turned back to his master.

"—that." She finished, taken slightly aback.

"Master, did I do something wrong?" he asked, nervous.

She held up a hand disarmingly. "Oh no, it's nothing." Jake caught her eyes wandering back to the scars on his fingers, just as they had at the range.

"I don't really know where they came from, if you wanted to know."

His master suddenly tensed, as if guiltily. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok, master." He said. He looked down at his fingers thoughtfully. "You know what Frank used to call them?"

"Frank?"

"Oh, that's right…he's the frontman of my band, or was, anyway. He always used to say that they were where the devils come out. He said that was why I played the guitar so well. Ever since then, everyone started calling me 'The Summoner.' Kinda stupid, I know…"

"Not at all." Said Seras, "your friends really cared for you. They thought the name Jake Rivers just didn't do you justice, so they gave you one that they felt fit you better. I'd love to see you play sometime."

And, for the first time since he'd gotten here, Jake smiled, sincerely. Apparently, his Master noticed.

"Well, it's getting late…I mean early. Tomorrow, we'll move on to hand to hand combat. Get some rest, ok?"

"Yes, Master."

She turned to leave.

"Oh, Master?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

She smiled. "Anytime, Jake."


	5. Chapter 5: The Crucible

A/N Whew, longest chapter yet. Hope you like this one, it's the most fun I've had with this story yet. Reviews have been great, so keep em comin'!

Chapter 5: The Crucible

_October 15, Day 5_

_Master filled me in on a lot of my questions. She said that there were vampires all across the world, mostly disorganized individuals, or sometimes "gangs."And sometimes, they got stupid ideas, like the incident at the 'Typical Freak' club, and they throw themselves out in the open. It used to be that you could only become one the same why I became one, but five years ago, someone found a way to produce them using some weird device called the "freak chip." Since then, vampire or ghoul sightings that used to happen once every couple of weeks turned to every other day. They destroyed the people responsible, and got rid of most of the "assembly line," but somehow, more keep coming. They think that some other psycho picked up the pieces and kept it going, but they're not sure._

_I asked her how she ended up working here. She said she was turned by Alucard after he blew a hole through her chest to get the heart of the vampire holding her hostage. Then I asked her about Alucard. She sort of shrugged and said it was something he never talked about. It was probably best not to ask. All things considered, I'm probably better off not knowing anyway. _

_Master's gone off on another vampire hunting excursion today. I feel so useless, just waiting around for her to return, so that she can teach me more. I can't help feeling as though I should be at her side, even if she doesn't really need me. I went over and shot a few magazines at the range. Down to 4" now. Who knows? Maybe I'll adjust. It's not like I have much of a choice._

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Seras involuntarily moved with the armored car as it pounded its way across the bumpy road. A few soldiers were chatting amongst themselves, placing bets on how many more kills they would get than the other. It felt much better than how they used to act around her; uncertain, nervous, suspicious, acting as if they had drawn the short straw. She wished she could say that she felt accepted now, but she'd be fooling herself. The vast majority of them had only become aware of the fact that if she was there, they weren't as likely to die. She was a piece of cover, nothing more.

For the first time since she had come to work for Hellsing, she felt like she was wasting her time. Surely, Alucard would prove more than enough support for Hellsing's forces. It was only a single vampire, after all; and maybe a few ghouls. She hadn't seen anything even close the Cheddars incident in almost two years. It was like waiting for a cockroach to scurry out of the hole, stepping on it, then waiting for the next one.

She should've been back at the mansion, teaching Jake the finer points of close quarters combat. He did fairly well yesterday, though he had the tendency to hold back, to hesitate, as though afraid of his own strength. That was something she really needed to work on. Hesitation was never good in their line of work.

_You would do well to stay focused, Police Girl,_ cooed a familiar voice.

_Ugh, _Seras scoffed back,_ why did you start calling me that all of the sudden? I was getting use to you actually using my name._

_Because I can't bring myself to call you anything but Police Girl after the irresponsibility you've shown. _

_Damn it! _Seras growled mentally,_ Why can't you just leave it alone already? I turned him, and now I'm taking care of him. Why does that bother you so much?_

_It does not "bother" me at all that you took on a fledgling,_ corrected Alucard,_ I am merely disappointed that you hadn't chosen a more worthy successor._

_And just what is wrong with Jake?_

_What's right with him? No experience in combat, has the spine of a field mouse, _and_ comes from a country that routinely spews out the laziest, most useless sort of humans in the free world. He hasn't the heart of a true warrior, not like you. Could you have possibly picked a worse candidate?_

Seras grinded her teeth, not realizing that the others on board could hear it. _Maybe if you'd just stop being a such a bloody prick about it, and actually gave him a _chance...

_I plan to, Police Girl. Believe me, I plan to._

This was going to be a long trip.

_--------------------------_

Jake stood on the roof of Hellsing manner, waiting. He wasn't sure who for. The note on his desk said, simply,_ 2:00a.m., roof._ He was almost sure it wasn't his Master, she would have simply asked him. Could it have been Walter? No, what could he possibly want to talk about? Sir Hellsing? Of course not. She hadn't any need to be subtle about it. Then who was it?

The night was bitterly cold, overcast; though he noted that in spite of this, he still couldn't see his breath.

_Oh that's right,_ he thought,_ not much body heat anymore._

The stairs were concealed in a veil of purplish grey. The moon shone scarcely from behind it like a Shinto lamp, just settling on a faraway mountain. He hoped that whoever invited him here would show up soon, dawn was approaching. He heard a voice that made him jump.

"Time for your first _real_ lesson, fledgling."

He whipped around, almost tripping over himself.

_Oh shit._

He cursed himself for not seeing this coming. What better way to get him alone, where his Master wouldn't be around?

Alucard wore a predatory grin as he looked down at Jake. His orange glasses shone in the moonlight, giving him the look of a cat with a flashlight shone in its face. Jake never felt more like a canary in his life.

"Your master seems to believe that a slow and careful approach would suit you best. I, on the other hand..."

And, without any warning or change in expression, Alucard pulled out a .45 caliber pistol, aimed it at Jake, and fired.

It went through his gut so fast he barely had time to feel it. He dropped to his knees, eyes wide in shock.

"You...shot me..." he uttered.

"How observant of you." Said Alucard, his condescending tone not breaking in the slightest

"But...why?" he forced out, pressing his hand against the wound as the pain began to register.

"To prove a point. Now, take your hand off the wound."

He was in too much pain to even consider it.

"I said," Alucard's tone deepened, "take it off."

Another shot in his shoulder. The hand that pressed the first wound rushed to the new one.

"Stop it!" he screamed, "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Tell me, what do you notice about the first wound?" he asked. He was enjoying this. The bastard was actually _enjoying_ this.

Jake looked at his gut, and found, to his amazement, the wound was gone, as if it was never there.

"Regeneration, fledgling. Every vampire, no matter how pitiful, has it. It is our greatest strength. I could empty this gun completely, and so long as I miss your head or heart, or was firing with blessed bullets, it would mean nothing. Stand up."

Jake waited for the wound in his shoulder to heal, and obeyed. He really didn't want to take another—

_BLAM!_

His leg this time. He screamed through his teeth as he dropped to one knee. Alucard picked him up by the throat and leveled the pistol to the base of his neck. He screwed his eyes shut, expecting the worst.

"Why do you flinch?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Jake glared indignantly through narrow slits, "Because it fucking _hurts_ you asshole! Why do you think I—"

_BLAM!_

Jake fell face-first on the floor, clutching his gaping neck wound. His blood began to pool around him.

"Well, if that isn't the most human of all excuses, I don't know what is. Perhaps physical pain was important as a human, when you could die of the smallest cut in the right place. The wound I've just given you; do you think it will kill you? Of course not. You'll heal in the next few seconds. Pain is just another pointless feeling that listening to will get you killed."

Jake stood back up. "If my Master hears about this..."

"Oh, how like a fledgling: scurrying off to his master when he's hurt, like a little boy to its mother. Have you any spine whatsoever, or was it mere pity that guided Seras' hand in turning you?"

Jake gritted his teeth and stood back up. His neck was almost closed. "Fuck you."

_BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!_

Jake fell his back, staring at the stars. He tried to lift his head up to face that son of a bitch, but he couldn't, so he let it drop roughly on the concrete. He heard Alucard's footsteps get closer, until he was looking right down at him.

"You look like you could use a 'pick-me-up'." He said, pulling out a blood pack from his long coat. He emptied it on his own boot, and placed it roughly against Jake's cheek.

"Go ahead, fledgling, have a taste."

Jake turned away in disgust.

"Come now, you may not regenerate in time to find shelter if you don't."

_Shelter? _Then it finally hit him.

_The sun!_

"That's right, fledgling," said Alucard with extreme satisfaction. "It seemed only fitting to show you your greatest strength _and _weakness at the same time. If I judge it correctly, you have forty five seconds to find shelter before your ashes are scattered to the wind. Taste the blood on my boot, and you might have a—"

Jake would listen to no more of this. Sunlight or no sunlight, he wasn't about to give this sadistic monster the satisfaction of degrading him further. He pushed Alucard's boot aside, and, with great difficulty, stood up again.

The sun peered over the horizon like the eye of a dragon. He ran to the access door.

"Don't bother, you won't get through that way, I sealed it myself."

Jake's eyes darted for another way in from the roof. Nothing. The sun's rays began to creep along the trees. He didn't have long. Entirely on impulse, he ran toward the opposite side and jumped off the roof. With agility he never knew he had, he grabbed on the ledge of the nearest window and, ignoring the pain of his destroyed kidneys and liver, pulled himself up, crashing through the window. He would apologize to Sir Hellsing later.

A woman in a blue night gown sprang out of her bed with a look that could freeze the Niagara Falls.

"What is the meaning of this, Rivers!?"

He wanted to apologize, to explain, but damn it, there was no time. He muttered a quick apology with a hasty salute and broke through the door, diving underneath windows and around skylights like some vampiric game of "hot lava." He leaped down the stairs to the basement and threw the door open, slamming it shut behind him.

Finally safe, he leaned against the door and slid to the floor.

Had he been in earshot, he may have heard the slow applause coming from the roof, or perhaps the playful chuckle escaping the lips of the No Life King who had nearly gotten him killed. Or maybe, if he weren't so happy to still be "alive," he might've even heard him say:

"Perhaps you were right, Police Girl. All he needed was a chance."

---------------------------

A/N Well, it seems Jake has passed Alucard's first test, but that doesn't mean he's ready to just sit on his hands while Seras takes care of the rest.


	6. Chapter 6: Respite

A/N Here's the next chapter...is it me or are they getting longer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing blah blah blah

_October 21, day 11_

_I finally finished cleaning every bathroom in the mansion with a toothbrush._My _toothbrush.__ I never told Sir Hellsing what happened. It's not because I'm afraid of that undead whackjob Alucard or anything. It's just that I'm not a kid and this isn't a playground, so why should I run to the teacher?_

_I don't usually see Alucard very much anyways. Good thing, because I don't think I can look him in the eyes again without trying to tear them out of his head. I can't imagine how terrible it must have been for Master Seras, to be the fledgling of such a cruel vampire._

_I tried to tell Master that I was wandering around on the roof and fell, but she just raised an eyebrow and gave me 'the look.' When I told her what happened, she went ballistic. I begged her not to say anything, that I didn't want any trouble on my account. She wasn't pleased, but I think she listened. I know it's selfish, but it felt good to know that I had at least one person on my side._

_October 27, day 17_

_The days go by pretty routine here. I get up out of "bed," at about 7:30 at night, I train with Master, try to improve my shooting (which seems to be stuck at 4" radius grouping), choke down a bag of blood, and I go to sleep at about 2:30 in the morning. It's predictable, but so long as Master is there, I enjoy it. Hand-to-hand is working out better for me than shooting. Master says I get closer to throwing her each day. She's done so much for me, and I haven't been able to give anything back. I can't wait for a chance to prove that all her work hasn't gone to waste. I hope Sir Hellsing deems me combat worthy soon._

_It's funny, things like the military and all that used to scare the hell out of me. Some of Frank's best and most disturbing songs were sticky retellings of his Dad's and Grandpa's war stories. Maybe after a few years here, I'll have a few of my own stories. I wonder if I'll ever be able to tell them._

---------------------

Seras hefted a large cardboard box labeled "Rivers" down the basement hall. She couldn't wait to see his reaction when he found out that his possessions weren't gone for good. She knocked on his door.

"Jake, I have a surprise for you." She called.

No answer. Strange.

She opened the door a crack, taking a peek in. Nothing. She thought he still might be sleeping, but noticed that his coffin was closed, and he never slept with it closed. He must have been at the shooting range.

Even better, she thought. She imagined his surprised when he walked into a room that held less than four stone walls and a coffin. She opened the box, a little curious herself as to what sort of things her fledgling would keep with him.

She was intrigued to say the least: a copy Dante's _The Divine Comedy _and _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,_ some old Batman comics, a collection of music boxes varying from ceramic angels to metal dragons, a poster of Eddie Van Halen, an amplifier, and of course, his guitar.

It was surprisingly simple, inexpensive one, by the looks of it; a scuffed black finish with white trim. Modest and unassuming, just like Jake. It was a little scratched up from being thrown offstage during the "Typical Freak" club incident, but it looked intact, perhaps even playable. She laid it atop his coffin, imagining his beaming face as he walked in, no doubt tired from the day's training, and saw his favorite thing just lying on his coffin, waiting for him.

But what really caught her attention was the photo album sitting at the bottom. She picked it up and opened it to the first page. Across the top, in black sharpie, read: **Post Mortem: Year One**

Varying pictures of older, serious-looking teen with a shaved head was first. He wore nothing but a pair of black jeans and had a huge black dragon tattoo coiling around his muscular chest.

**Stevie "the Dragon" Barker: Bassist. His silent rage empowers us all.**

Next was as tall and lanky as a scarecrow, wearing a surgeon's mask. He had long black hair that was shaved completely on one side, and down to his waist on the other, perpetually concealing one of his eyes.

**Hans DeFalco: Keyboarder, Mixer, Embalmer, and living tome of dead baby jokes.**

Seras chuckled a little. Jake really put of a lot of work into this. She turned the page and saw a cute redheaded girl. Between her ears, lips, and nose, she boasted about a dozen piercings, at least that she could see. Her hair was short with a streak of white on the left side, and her brown eyes held a fire all their own.

**Belle "from Hell" Thompson: Mistress of the Drums. Beats the life force out of the universe itself...**

Seras saw another picture of her indignantly striking another bandmate not yet named.

**...just like she does Frank.**

Seras laughed at that one. Next was the one who was being abused by Belle, but she didn't need that first picture to know that. Ridiculously spiked hair, a few modest piercing on his ears and mouth, and a sly "the devil made me do it" grin.

**Frank Segar: Vocalist, Lyricist, and Speaker for the Dead. May his random acts of senseless depravity keep us all sane and amused.**

That only left one...

**Me. Jake "The Summoner" Rivers: Treble Guitar and secondary Bassist. **

At first glance, he seemed terribly out of place. He was clearly the youngest of them; no piercings, no tattoos, no dyed hair. He even wore more white than he did black, making him stand out even more. But what really made him sync with the others was something that, in a way, saddened Seras.

He was happy.

There wasn't a single picture of him that didn't include a smile, whether beaming or bashful. Post Mortem felt as if it might, ironically, come alive at any moment and begin playing right here in Jake's room. She sighed with a bittersweet resignation. What if the club was never attacked? How far would they have gone? Would they ever go platinum?

"Master?"

Seras nearly dropped the book in surprise. "You scared me." She said, a little embarrassed that her own fledgling had snuck up on her.

He lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Hey, my stuff! How did you get it back?"

"You can thank Walter for that. I swear the man's a magician, he just pulls things out of a hat."

Seras watched in delight as he fingered through and set up his barren room. The Van Halen poster went above his coffin. He set his music boxes on the table. The books and comics he left in the box for the time being. And finally, he set his guitar and amplifier in the corner by the monitor/mirror.

"You know," Seras said slyly, "All of this, it isn't free you know."

"Huh?" mumbled Jake, his hand still on the neck of his guitar. He looked worried.

"In return for your possessions, you have to prove that you're still worthy of them." She continued, trying to hide the smirk creeping onto his face.

He looked defeated. "You're not going to shoot me, are you?"

Seras looked at him as if he were insane. "Of course not. I just wanted to get a good look at those 'devils' your friend Frank talked about. Think you can still summon a few for me?"

He smiled wide. "Well, maybe just one..."

He eagerly set up his amplifier and took his time tuning his guitar. He stood in the corner, while Seras waited in the wooden chair. Seras couldn't help chuckling a little at how he fumbled the guitar a bit as he was tuning it. This was perhaps his most endearing quality; training or not, he was trying his utmost to please her.

After he tested the amplifier a few times, and apologizing when that unbearable screeching came out, he asked: Treble or Bass?

"You pick."

He looked away for a moment, concentrating, no doubt trying to discern which song she would like best.

"Well, I'll try out Belle's favorite one: Canniballet."

"That sounds like a good one." Said Seras, waiting in anticipation.

Jake took a long look at his guitar, as if articulating a delicate plan of operation. He took a deep breathe, and began.

It started out calm; a few slight plucks steadily rising up and down, reminiscent of a waltz. Then it began to wave, growing in intensity as it went back and forth, suddenly pulling back into a single long, wobbly note. Then came the storm. The pick of his guitar suddenly burst into a flurry of quick successive squeals, his hand going up and down the neck of the guitar like a kid running his finger down a keyboard, yet with so much precision it was like watching neurosurgery in fast-forward.

Seras' head filled with images of the dead rising, breaking into an impossibly graceful dance, a twisted display of beauty and horror captured in a single moment. And Jake himself? He was in another world altogether, a world that Seras felt blessed at that moment to be apart of.

"Master? Did you like it?"

Just as easily as he took her out of the world, he pulled her back into it. She awoke to reality, and suddenly, she couldn't stop talking.

"Like it!? That was incredible! I've never heard anything like it in all my life! With talent like that you could easily..." she trailed off, knowing exactly where this would lead.

After a long silence, she walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

But he just looked up at her and smiled, blushing a little. "Don't be, Master. I'm happy I get to play at all, especially if it's for you."

They stood there for a moment, not saying anything, until they were interrupted by a pair of red eyes and a wide smile.

"Duty calls, children." Said Alucard.

They both jumped, and Seras retracted her hand.

"Was I interrupting anything?" he suggested.

At that moment, something dawned on Seras, she looked at Jake. Jake looked at her.

"In any case, you _and_ your fledgling are required for this mission. Don't keep Master Hellsing waiting, now."

Alucard left, and suddenly, Seras and Jake burst into a fit of laughter so powerful it put the amplifier to shame.

---------------

Another day, another chapter! Tired of waiting for the action? Well too bad. You'll have to wait until I write the next chapter. Thanks for everyone's valuable input. I aim to please!


	7. Chapter 7: Initiation

A/N: It's me again guys. Sorry for the long wait, I hope I've made it worth it. Enjoy.

--------------

Jake sat with his Master in the back of the armored car. Sir Hellsing had briefed them just minutes before. By the sound of it, a vampire in east London had made a local brothel his feeding ground, and had gotten sloppy about it. There were reports of sultry-looking women attacking random people in the street, behaving like rabid animals. The objective was simple: search and destroy.

For the first time since his last show, Jake felt wired. He tried to look as serious as possible, but the rapid tick of his knee betrayed him. He couldn't resist glancing at the patch on his shoulder. **Hellsing**. Just like his Master. As ridiculous as it was, he couldn't help feeling the same way he did just before Post Mortem's first performance. This was the chance he had longed for, and now that it was here, he was honestly scared shitless, only this time it wasn't stage fright. Whatever happened, he told himself, he could not screw this up. Ghouls and vampires were the least of his worries. His own worth and the dignity of his Master depended on his performance. Not to mention Sir Hellsing...

_Forget the five minutes_, thought Jake, _I need to make this worth a hundred years._

"Nervous?" asked Seras.

"Huh?" He looked at her with a bit of confusion; was he always so obvious, or did she really know him that well in the space of less than a month?

"You're practically wearing a groove into the floor." She observed plainly.

"Oh." He muttered. It was just the two of them, but even so, he felt the need to act professional, if only to show that he could.

"You'll be fine," She said with a wink. "Just try to keep up with me."

He smiled uncertainly and nodded. He took to staring at the weapons Walter had provided for him: a .45 magnum with a seven-shot magazine, each bullet hollow-point and baptized, and a solid black "Doberman" 8-gauge combat shotgun with a pistol grip, stock, and silver shot. Walter said that they were only to tie him over until he could customize weapons for him. After seeing the weapon that he had made for his Master, Jake was plenty excited about that.

The car screeched to a halt, launching both of them sideways. Reaching for something to hold on to, they both ran into each other, and Jake found himself lying on the floor in, his master atop him, and her face a mere inch from his. They both froze in embarrassment as the double doors opened.

They scrambled apart awkwardly, but not before a surprised whistle was heard from beyond the doors.

"Well, when this van's a-rockin'..." chuckled the driver.

Seras stood up with an annoyed look on her face. "Shut up, Mick," she whispered hoarsely, "Who gave you your bloody license, Mr. Magu?"

"Hey, I wanted to grease the brake before we left, but no one listens to me..."

They stepped carefully out of the armored car, Seras holding her big-bore rifle on her shoulder. Good thing, too; the corridors were far too tight for the large and cumbersome Harkonen cannon. He took the shotgun off the shoulder strap and cocked it once. They had pulled into a narrow back alley leading into the brothel. Even in the cold night air, the smell was already overpowering.

"Where do we start?" he asked, trying to keep his head on the mission.

"Follow me. Mick, 'think you can take care of yourself?"

Mick confidently toted his rifle and quipped: "I'll manage."

Seras guided Jake over to the alleyway door.

"_On three..."_

Jake nodded. The telepathy took some getting used to, and sometimes he wondered how open the link between them was.But now was not the time to ponder such things.

_"One."_

He turned sideways.

_"Two."_

Shifted his weight.

_"Three."_

And kicked the door to splinters. His new strength; he wasn't used to that yet either.

They swept their weapons on either side of the three-pronged hallway. It was dark, but that hardly mattered. Even in the tarry blackness he could make out the grimy cracks along the walls, see and even hear the roaches scurrying between them, and worse yet, smell the rank stench of stale whorehouse. He was never so appreciative of the fact that he no longer needed to breathe.

A sound; shuffling, moaning. High heels being dragged across the rotting hardwood.

_"Here they come." _Crooned his master excitedly. Something about the way she said it made the hairs on his neck prickle, but strangely, not out of fear or disgust.

They burst through two nearby doors on the left and center hallways. Shredded dresses, and sometimes nothing at all shoddily covered their corpulent bodies. Sagged and decayed, the parts they once displayed to tempt now only repulsed. Jake aimed the Doberman at the nearest, wearing a blue dress that was torn completely from the waist down. He held the imaginary vomit in his throat, and kept his sight on the head, but his trigger finger wasn't twitching quite hard enough.

_"Give them peace, Jake. That's all we can do for them."_

Jake swallowed hard and pulled the trigger, not letting himself close his eyes. The silver shot ripped through the first ghoul's chest and peppering the one behind it. He pumped and shot again, through the head of another. Coagulated blood and grey matter painted the side of the wall. It made him cringe, but not at the sight of death; it felt more like seeing curdled milk spill on the floor. One bounded for him, too close to shoot. He turned the shotgun upwards, striking it in the chin. It fell the floor. He didn't have time to commit a shot to it. He fired at another ghoul, and, just as the one on the floor began to move again, he lifted up his boot and crushed its head like rotten cantaloupe. The smell of it filled his nostrils, but what disturbed him was that it didn't disgust him. It made him hungry.

He allowed a quick glance at his Master. She wasn't even using her gun anymore, killing them with her bare hands. She punched one so hard it burst like a tomato dropped from a skyscraper. She was caked in the spoiled blood, reminding him of a child playing in the mud. Jake could feel the power coursing through her, beaming off of her as she dispatched each walking corpse with joyous abandon. He watched hypnotically; the way the blood drizzled on her face, running down her uniform, over her sumptuous curves. His eyes traveled to her bloodied, outstretched hand, as she moved it, drenched in blood, to her mouth, extended her tongue...

The large chunk bitten out of Jake's right arm broke his trance, and Seras whipped around to see him level his magnum to the feasting ghoul's head, and fire.

_God dammit! _He cursed himself. _Stay focused!_

"Just where the hell is Alucard?" asked Jake aloud, seeing as subtlety was a now moot point. He was desperate to keep his head on the job, away from these bizarre and horrifyingly tempting places, and mentioning that name was the easiest way.

"Disappointed. He's been ordered to hang back and let us handle it if we can." Seras answered.

_So, _he thought, blowing away the last ghoul with the magnum, _this really is a test_

"Your arm..." she said, grabbing it and staring at it like a concerned mother.

"It'll be fine." He said quickly, forcing himself to show no pain. "Where's the prime target?"

"He hasn't buggered off, that's for sure." She said, combing some of the gore out of her hair.

"I trust the girls showed you good time?" said smooth, cadent voice from down the hallway.

--------------------

A/N well, I guess I just enjoy being a cruel bastard. The rest will come swiftly, I assure you all, but alas, I was impatient, and didn't want to keep you waiting for too much longer. Until next time kiddies!


	8. Chapter 8

/ A/N hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it. I've been real busy lately, and I'm about to get even busier. But fear not, I will see this fic through to the bitter end. Enjoy, and as always, Read and Review.

The vampire regarded them confidently. Wearing a bright purple suit and a matching feathered hat, there was no questioning what he had once been in life.

"I was always known for havin' the best goods in town." he crooned, with a knowing gleam in his eye.

Jake whipped the magnum forward and took aim. The vampire didn't move.

"Wait, Jake!" Seras called. Too late. He'd already pulled the trigger.

And found himself looking into a pair of wide, gleeful eyes.

"Boo."

Jake felt a freight train barrel into his chest. He heard his ribs crack just as he felt the wall behind him splinter with his impact. Seras landed a punch on the vampire's shoulder, but he spun around and sideswiped her, jumping backward three meters.

"Didn't I tell ya? Girls don't ruin my shit unless I'm handcuffed and payin' for it."

Jake clambered to his feet, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and dashed back toward the target. He swiped up the shotgun he had dropped. Seras was on the attack again, this time landing a kick to the vampire's throat and knocking his hat off. She drew her rifle mere inches away from its face, and fired. The vampire flicked his head to the side, forcing her to settle for his ear instead of his brain. It ducked away in the only direction he could: toward Jake.

_Here's my chance._

Jake leapt over the vampire, aimed the shotgun downward in midair...and hit the ceiling just as it looked up. He overshot it. Jake misfired, but the agonized scream he heard before he hit the ground told him he didn't miss. He sprang back up to see a vampire with half its face missing scrabbling along the floor.

Seras stepped on the back of its head, and spoke with more authority than Jake ever knew her capable of. "Impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation," she leveled the rifle to its head. "Amen."

A shot rang out. A sigh of wind blew away the remains of the prime target, leaving only its gaudy clothes.

"Well, I think we're done here." said Seras, seamlessly returning to her friendly self.

Jake found himself staring at the headless body of a former prostitute. It reminded him of something...

_...such gracious hosts..._

"Jake?"

He snapped out of it. "Yeah, I guess we are, huh?" he said uncertainly.

--------------------------

Seras sat at the table, staring at the bag of blood in the ice bucket. She never liked this part of unlife, but she'd learned to accept it over the years, so it wasn't that. She just didn't feel hungry.

His fervor had decreased noticeably in combat training the last few days, though seemed more apologetic about it than determined. His shooting had even gone back to 5" grouping. She tried to ask him what was wrong, but he always looked away and said it was fine, he was just having an off night. Then, just like the night of his first mission, he went straight to his room.

That night Jake hadn't said a word—or made eye contact, for that matter—all the way back, and went straight to his room after the debriefing. It was strange; the mission was complete, and he did his part wonderfully, especially for his first time. She'd even told him so, and as usual he shrugged it off, but not in the bashful way he normally did.

She wanted to tell herself that he was still wet behind the ears, that all of this would fade in time, but look on Jake's face told her different. Not since he was told that his friends were dead did he look so completely lost. If anything, he should have been proud of himself, for getting rid of the same scum that took his life from him and those he cared for, but there was no satisfaction at all; just a vague expression of what Seras swore was guilt on his face.

But for what? He'd done his duty, pleased his Master, and gone home without a single casualty. If you didn't count the ghouls, of course. After her reassurance, he didn't seem to have any problem dispatching them, and she knew he wouldn't have had any misgivings about killing such a reckless and sadistic vampire as the one they met.

_Well, _she decided, _I'm not going to get anywhere just sitting here._

She walked down the quiet, shadowy halls toward his room. Her fist was just upon the door when he answered.

"Come in, Master." He said weakly.

Seras guessed he must have been getting used to their link, being able to detect her presence so quickly. She opened the door slowly to find that he was sitting much the same way she was, and he had been those few nights ago: in his chair staring at his bag of blood. Seras got a little nervous; being hesitant in the beginning was one thing, but suddenly becoming squeamish about something he was able to deal with before...that wasn't a good sign. She sat down in the chair beside him.

Perhaps it was best to just throw it out in the open. "Jake, what happened last night? What's got you so quiet all of the sudden?"

Jake continued staring at the blood. "I don't know." He said simply.

That was only half true. His voice wavered a little at "don't." Seras scooted closer and outstretched a hand.

And Jake pulled back, as though closing himself in an imaginary shell.

Suddenly, Seras realized what she must have looked like, on the eve of his first mission: bloodied hands, smashed corpses, bits of gore splashing on her face, the blissful expression on her face.

He was afraid. Afraid because he had seen a side of her that previously, only Alucard and Integra had seen. Ever since she'd become a midian, she'd grown so accustomed to cutting loose on the battlefield she forgot that her fledgling was still very new at this.

_Great,_ she thought, _he liked you, trusted you, depended on you, and now he thinks you're just another bloodthirsty monster with a golden patch on your arm._

She pulled her hand away. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I should've been more controlled...you shouldn't have had to see that."

"You didn't scare me, Master." He said, just as simply as before, only this time, he was telling the whole truth. "That's what bothers me."

Seras' eyes squinted in confusion. "I didn't?"

Jake's gaze still hadn't left the blood in the half-melted ice. "Master, when do we stop being 'us'?"

"What?"

"When do we lose who we are? What do we become after that?" he said.

Seras understood now. She'd asked herself those questions many times before, ones which, as a fledgling, she wouldn't dare ask Alucard.

"It's like the things I feel are wrong because they seem right..." his hand went to his forehead, as if trying to scratch a meaning out of it.

"Why don't you tell me what you felt three nights ago?" she suggested.

He swallowed hard. Seras hadn't seen him so nervous since his interview with Sir Hellsing.

"Hungry." He said quickly.

"Jake, look at me." She said, trying to sound just firm enough so he would listen. He glanced briefly in her direction, then turned back.

He rose from his chair and made for his coffin. "It's almost dawn. I should sleep soon..."

Seras grabbed his wrist. He turned in surprise, then away again. What were his eyes running from?

"_Look _at me." She said, her face now only inches from his.

Slowly, like a scolded child, he did as he was told.

"Your reflexes have dulled, your shooting is off, you don't speak to me at all...what's going on?"

"I just—" The briefest flash of defiance passed over his eyes, and faded away into resignation. "I just need some time."

She knew she shouldn't accept that. She knew that she should have pressed further. But she also knew that if she did, she could risk alienating him, and she wasn't ready to go that far.

"I'm sorry I've been slow lately. I'll do better. I just need some sleep now."

Feeling strangely defeated, she let go of his wrist. He walked past her to his coffin. His back to her, he stopped just short.

"Goodnight, Master."

"Goodnight." She replied weakly.

Seras walked out the door and closed it gently behind her. She didn't sleep well that night.

A/N Well, (insert litany of pointless, audience-directed questions here). My hope is to make up for any lack of excitement in this chapter with some interesting developments in the next. Till next time.


	9. Chapter 9: Two trials

A/N this is what I like to call a "yay" or "nay" chapter. I know a lot of people probably won't be happy with it, so I'm going to put it up to a vote for whether or not I should change it. Bear in mind, I don't usually write with a plan, I just sorta see what happens. And if it happens badly, I'd like for everyone to tell me so. So, anyone who reads this, please tell me if you think it needs to be changed, for whatever reason. I'd just hate to see so many people turn away in disgust and never look at it again.

_October 30, Halloween Night, Day 31_

_Nothing feels the same anymore. Ever since that night, on our first mission together, when I saw her the way I did...I can't see Seras as just my Master. I know it's disgusting, sick even, but seeing her tear those monsters apart, the presence I felt from her...it brought out something in me that has no right to even be there in the first place. She's starting worry about me, and worse yet, she notices that I'm avoiding her. My performance is down, and if this keeps up Sir Hellsing will probably see it. I need to get over this before my next mission; I can't afford to be distracted like this. I can't let any shame come to my Master on account of me. _

------------------

"Damn it!" Jake cursed as the target slinked closer. His grouping was down to 6", and none of his shots hit the heart.

His shoulders slumped. He had hoped at least that he'd be able to do better here. Close combat had gone from his favorite part of the day to a dreaded chore. It meant being, well, close to her, and that had become an increasingly awkward experience. He tried to show the same fervor he had before, but he always turned to stone whenever their bodies met, trying as hard as he could not to think of how warm she was, or imagine the softness of her skin. And when his face hit the mat (which occurred more often than usual), he would remember how powerful she was. The longer they trained, the more Jake began to realize that he wasn't fooling anybody. It was only a matter of time before his next mission, where far more than his own embarrassment was at stake.

Jake found himself unconsciously stroking the right side of his neck, where she had turned him those 32 days ago. His mind went back to that night; the moonlight shining on Seras' face like an angel of mercy, her beautiful, red eyes looking up at him, her soft voice whispering in his ear, her arms wrapped around him, her moist, warm lips upon his neck...

He jerked his hand away as if it had burned him. He had to be stronger than this. These feelings would only get in his way of his being a good fledgling. He couldn't possibly do her proud if he was sidetracked by pointless feelings of childish infatuation. It was like having a crush on his teacher. It had to be ignored if he was to accomplish anything.

Jake raised the gun suddenly and fired five shots into the next target. It crept back to him: five shots to the chest; two in the heart. 5". Better, but he was far from satisfied. He had to get himself back up to what he was before. No, even better than that. Tomorrow, he would not allow himself to hold back in close combat training. In fact, he planned to throw her for the first time. He would get over his sudden distaste for blood. In the next mission, he would take the initiative without hesitation, even try to kill at least one vampire himself, without aid.

He switched the magazine and clinked it closed. _Besides, _he thought, _whenever she sees me improve, she's happy, and that's how she deserves to be._

He fired another round of shots, but stopped when one of them made a wet noise.

"Your aim is atrocious." said Alucard, conversationally. He stood directly in front of the target Jake had been shooting at, blood seeping from the bullet wound in his chest. Alucard took no notice of it.

"I'd say I was sorry," he said irritably, "But it'd be lie."

"Such a sore temper...and here I was about to give you some good news."

Jake turned his glance back to his gun as he reloaded. "And just what qualifies as 'good news' to you?"

Alucard gave a smirk so devious that it was all Jake could do not to blast it off of his face. "Walter wishes to show you your 'gifts.'"

"You mean he's finished the weapons?" he asked, trying to hide his elation.

"Yes. His workshop is upstairs. See for yourself, fledgling."

He hated how Alucard made "fledgling" sound like a racial slur. He made a note to add another reason to get better: to piss off his new "nemesis."

"Oh, and by the way," added Alucard, his voice dripping with cruelty, "After Walter is finished with you, you will meet in the forest outside the mansion, to the east."

Jake scoffed. "Like hell I will."

"Sir Integra Hellsing's orders." teased Alucard. "And bring your new toys with you."

As if his day wasn't bad enough already.

---------------------------------

Seras walked down to the shooting range, hoping to find Jake. Instead, she found Mick taking one of his late-night practice shots. It didn't take long for him to notice her.

"Well, if it isn't the queen of the night herself!" he took off his large earphones, and smiled.

"Hi, Mick." Seras sighed. Mick might've been a total smartass, but he was one of the few humans at Hellsing that she considered a friend, mostly because he wasn't intimidated by what she was. She had asked him why once, but he'd just shrugged and said "we work for the scariest woman on earth, why be afraid of each other?" and left it at that.

"You look about as happy as an eight-year old cancer patient." he said.

"Have you seen Jake today?"

"The kid? Yeah, he was just leaving when I got here.

"Did he say where he was going?"

Mick shrugged. "Didn't get a chance to talk to him, but to be honest, he wasn't lookin' rose-colored himself. I don't mean to pry, love, but what's the deal with you two?"

She looked over to the target beside where Mick was, which, she assumed, Jake had been practicing on. _Still stuck at 5"._

"I wish I knew..." she sighed.

Mick set the pistol down on the tray in front of the booth. "Listen, love, it's a nice night, care to go for walk?"

"Sure." She said, with a slight smile.

------------------------------

Walter's workshop was a mercenary's paradise. Chains of bullets of every caliber hung off the walls like windowless curtains, and everything from pistols to grenade launchers sat on display shelves, as well as a few Jake couldn't make heads or tails of. But what attracted his attention wasn't what was on the walls, but on the worktable in front of him.

With all the gentlemanly charm that Jake had known him for, Walter began describing the works of art before him.

"Your sidearm will be a Desert Eagle .45 caliber. I've modified the bullets as well as increased the magazine capacity to 9 rounds, and of course, switched standard powder to magnum."

He gestured over to what appeared to be a small minigun barrel.

"Your primary arm, however, will be the M405 Diamondback. Furnished from scaled-down .50 caliber normally mounted on a helicopter, it is loaded via a specially designed, waterproof chain unreeled from a protected coil on a backpack. The bullets are sharp-tipped silver, but that's almost unnecessary when you're holding a weapon that can cut down a redwood tree."

Jake's mouth stood agape. "I don't know what to say."

"Good," said Walter with a knowing smile, "because I'm not finished yet."

Jake was actually a little nervous about that. Having one huge gun was enough; was he going to keep on going until he had enough firepower decimate a third-world country?

We went over to the one of the shelves and pulled two strange arm straps of off them.

"I had heard from Seras Victoria that you have a propensity for close combat. I decided to integrate this into your arsenal. Here, try these on, and be mindful of the front of them."

He rolled up his sleeves and put them on, not fully understanding.

"Now, flick your wrists downward, and twist."

He did so, and two 18" blades popped out of the straps, he jumped in surprise.

"Whoa! You weren't kidding..."

"They are made of silver melted from a cross at the Sistine Chapel, hand-hammered with blade width of only a few atoms."

He would have to be extremely careful with these. He rolled his sleeves back over them, asking himself the likelihood of Alucard knowing precisely what weapons Walter had made. Jake reasoned that if he himself knew, than so did Alucard.

"You're a genius, Walter." said Jake with a slightly forced smile. Alucard was waiting for him in the woods, and he needed to stay sharp. If Alucard was actually telling him to bring firearms of this time, and of this payload, he didn't want to think about what _he_ had waiting for him.

-------------

"And he hasn't been the same ever since." Finished Seras. She felt a little foolish, confiding her insecurities on Mick like this, most of which she was sure he wouldn't understand, but he listened well, and that was all she really needed. "I don't know if he'll ever go back to what he used to be...and I'm already missing that."

Clouds were beginning to gather around the grayish-black sky. The wind was electric, and made the hairs on Seras' arms and neck prickle. They leaned against the iron gate surrounding the mansion, Seras staring up into the moon, which was just barely peering through a wispy hole.

Mick took in a long sigh, shook his head, and, to Seras' surprise, chuckled.

"What's so funny?" she asked, her face beginning to darken.

Mick lit up a cigarette. "You got yourself a pair 'a eyes that can see in pitch black, but I swear you're as blind as a bat."

"What?" Seras blinked.

Mick put on his signature cocksure grin. "Let me do the math for ya, love. This kid was in a rock band, on a tour, no less, am I right?

"Yes..." said Seras, confused.

"And you turned him, meaning he's got to be a virgin, right?"

"Yes."

"Let me tell you something about being in a rock band on a tour, love. Think of it like being a soldier. Everywhere you go, bullets are flyin' at ya left and right, and there's only one way to make sure one doesn't land on you: don't fight and keep your head down, right? Now imagine the bullets are women, and you got a pretty good idea for how it is for a guy in a rock band."

"But what does this have to do with anything?"

"What I'm trying to say is, that the kid's scared of women. Or at least, ones he _likes. _I've seen his type before. To him, a vampire, ghoul, or other such monster ain't nowhere near as scary as a woman he's attracted to..."

"Wait, your saying the reason he's so timid around me is because he's..."

"Put simply, you're shootin' bullets at him, and now he's keeping his head down. Look, love, I dunno how the whole 'master-fledgling' thing is supposed to work, if this is some kinda cardinal sin among vamps are something, but the signs are as plain as day. He gets flustered when you get too close, freezes like nitrogen whenever you touch him, can't keep his mind in his work when you're around...I don't mean to be an ass, but do I got to spell it out for ya?"

Seras opened her mouth to say something, but she realized she couldn't. What she had puzzled over for the last three days Mick had figured out in a few minutes. What could she do? It was obviously affecting his performance, his ability to keep a clear head, but what worried Seras most was that their friendship was getting nipped in the bud. He would never be as relaxed, as trusting, or even as happy around her as was before.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she asked to no one in particular. Mick answered anyway.

"Well, the way I see it, you've got three choices. One, you can wait for him to tell you what he's feeling, which I doubt is gonna happen anytime soon. Two, you can confront him yourself, and see what comes of it. And three, you can just leave the issue alone in hopes that he gets over it himself."

The wind picked up. The sky rumbled like the gut of a hungry beast.

"Storm's comin', love." warned Mick. "We'd best get inside."

"Go ahead, Mick," said Seras, as though already miles away. "I need to be alone for a while."

---------------

A/N Bear in mind, that if I decide to live up to this pairing, I plan to do so extremely carefully. Otherwise, it's going to get really crappy really quickly. What I need from you guys is to tell me if it's already there. So please, Read, Review, and VOTE!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Ok, I've been getting a lot of mixed reviews. So, to make it up to you guys, so, instead of poisoned muffins like I normally do, I gave you what I hope is an awesome-ass cool action scene. Read and review, good, bad, or indifferent.

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Jake took cover behind a large tree, reloading the Eagle. The sky resounded in an orchestra of thunder. He strained to see anything in the downpour, and he couldn't possibly hear anything over the noise. His equipment was so soaked he was amazed it was still firing. Going out into the open was suicide. The Diamondback had run out of ammo within the first fifteen minutes, and he only had one magazine left for the Eagle. It wouldn't be long before he was out completely.

As much as he hated to blemish Walter's masterpiece, he set the diamondback in the mud, dropping the backpack in the same way. It would only slow him down from here on. He gripped the Eagle firmly in both hands, and moved toward the next tree.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

A growl, like a starting motorcycle engine, pulled his glance back to where he was just moments ago. Six glowing eyes, like breaklights, shone through the rainy haze. Another six appeared beside it, back a few meters. Jake found himself staring into eighteen blaring red eyes. Lightning flashed, and for just a moment, Jake could see their black, sinuous bodies, the gleam of their slavering teeth, just enough to see that, like their master, they were all wore the same, happy grin.

These were what he'd been emptying his ammo into for the last hour and a half. Even the Diamondback wouldn't kill them outright, and anything less than a full clip from the Eagle just encouraged them. Their gleeful roars drowned out the thunder. They leapt into the air, their mouths gaping wide like little chicks opening up for the worm.

Jake rolled to the side, but the one on the right was too quick. Its clawed paws slammed into his chest like shotgun shells and pinned down his gun arm, pressing him down into the mud. Its putrid breath blew in his face as it moved in to tear his face from his head. His free arm flew to his defense, flicking the wrist and sticking the blade underneath its jaws, holding it upward, but that would only stave it off. Its friends were closing in around him, he had to kill this one fast. Praying it wouldn't have time to snap his nose off, he pulled back his hand, just enough to bring its head down, and punched his hand through the hole he had made, sticking his hand into it's slobbering jowells and pushing the blade through its tongue and the roof of its mouth. Drool and blood leaked onto Jakes face. The creature went limp, and Jake tossed it toward the nearest of its pack. He dashed sloppily through the mud, hoping that one would be faster than the other.

He was wrong.

They both pounced at the same time, from two different directions. Jake saw himself, as though a passive observer, move in slow motion. He could hear their saliva hit the ground, smell the, see their eyes widen as they got closer. He raised his gun at the one in front of him. Three prolonged shots resounded, and the first one dropped. Lucky shots, nothing more. He turned to fire at the last one.

Too late.

Time caught up with itself, and before he knew what had happened, he heard a tremendous ripping noise. He ignored it at the time. His target had just brushed past him. He must have dodged just in time. He raised his gun to the beast—

But there was nothing to raise.

The lightning flashed. He looked at the dog again. In its grinning jaws, still clutching the gun, was his right arm.

That's when he felt it. An atom bomb went off his right shoulder. Unrelenting, burning, stinging, exacerbated by the cold water peppering it every second.

He closed his mouth. His throat burned—had he been screaming? The dog hadn't moved, just nibbling on his appendage like a Doberman on a beef bone. He could smell his own blood mixing with the mud and drool. Trembling from the pain and cold, he took his hand off of his pulsing, bleeding stump, and with great effort, trudged through the mud toward what was his.

The dog's grin seemed to widen at this, and for a second, Jake was sure it had winked at him with at least one of its eyes. Then, it did something that fueled his rage more than he ever thought possible.

It ran away.

He could hear Alucard giggle inside his head, like a little girl with a lollipop. Jake tried to push it out, put his hand back on his wound, and ran after it. His vision blurred from blood loss, practically running blind. Each strike of lightning stung his eyes, make them harder to open each time. Even his hearing was beginning to go, making the thunder and rain seem to wobble. He stepped on something hard, that sank into the mud until he took his foot off: he felt around for it: the Desert Eagle. His limp hand must have dropped it.

After stumbling around for what seemed like twenty minutes, he found the dog, lying down, under the shelter of a large tree, his still arm in its mouth, barely taking notice of him. Jake stopped ten meters away from it, and it finally looked up.

Running entirely on hatred, he charged, screaming like a madman. The dog stood calmly as he closed in, dropped the arm, and dashed to meet him. The dog lurched forward.

Jake threw his legs underneath him and slid in the mud. He stuck his blade into the beasts throat, and emptied the rest of the magazine, dragging the blade from it neck down through its gut. He heard the dog slump and fall to the floor.

Unable to move another inch, Jake lay in the mud, letting the rain drape a frigid sheet over him. His veins burned as though hot lead was being pumped through them. He needed blood, and soon. He knew his wound wouldn't heal without it, and it was still bleeding.

He saw a pair of red eyes staring down at him. He heard something flop against the mud: his right arm. Alucard kneeled down to him and offered a plastic pouch.

"Blood?"

Jake let his head drop in the other direction. His voice strained out his last attack.

"G-go...to...Hell."

Jake couldn't see him smile, but he imagined he was. Alucard rose.

"Suit yourself." He said dismissively, and walked off.

A part of him knew that was a mistake, but he couldn't have cared less at the moment.

--------

Even in the pouring rain, Seras hadn't left the gate. Truth be told, she actually sort of liked the rain. When she was a little girl, she always liked to stare out the window during a storm, daydreaming about whatever happened to float across her mind.

Confused and slightly terrified as she was, she always felt better when the weather made people pop out their umbrellas and run for shelter. It meant there wouldn't be any eyes on her, and that made it much easier to think.

She had to face the fact, her fledgling _liked_ her. How was she supposed to deal with that? Of all the challenges she expected from taking on a fledgling, she couldn't have seen this coming if it was five feet in front of her. Looking back at it all, there was much she didn't know about siring a fledgling. Was this sort of thing common, taboo, unheard of? Almost certainly not unheard of, she reasoned, and probably not taboo either. Vampires as a whole were a hedonistic bunch. It didn't seem in their nature to make any rule that would restrict their behavior. Not that "their" rules meant anything to Seras, of course.

But what of her own feelings? She liked him, to be sure; he was sweet, thoughtful, and sincere, humble to the point of being self-deprecating...basically all of the things that Alucard wasn't. He always wanted to please her in any way he could, and was eager to learn anything she wanted to teach him. He valued his humanity and appreciated life, just like she did, though admittedly it made him a bit squeamish at times.

But did she really _like _him? She couldn't say. He was her fledgling and her friend. She would have never thought their relationship to be anything more than that. Besides, he was young. Everyone knew that young boys are prone to crushes. He'd get over it in about a month or so, and everything would be back to "normal" again.

But what if he didn't? Then he'd be doomed to covet someone close to him quite literally for eternity. Every moment with her would be sheer torture, just like it was now. She'd be like the carrot in front of his nose, always close by, but always just out of reach. She felt terrible, but she couldn't change her feelings.

Something broke her out of her thoughts. A soft sound: feet trudging through the mud. A figure appeared through the trees. The mist made it hard to make out, but it looked like someone was holding something in its left hand.

Then came the smell. The rain had masked it at first, but it was unmistakable now. Blood. Lots of it.

The figure finally came into view. He wore a shredded blue uniform. She got a look at what he was holding in its hand: his own arm.

"M-master..." the glassy-eyed boy uttered, and fell flat on his face.

--------

A/N well I hope this makes up for any disappointments you might have had about this. Does this make it better? Or should I apply more Neosporen?


	11. Chapter 11: A Woman's Scorn

A/N Well, this chapter is short, but I hope its entertainment value holds up nonetheless. Read, review (please hold the rotten vegetables, I'm an anti-vegan)

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Light passed over his closed lids in a constant, rhythmic pulse. He heard a few vague sounds, coming from either side of him...voices, maybe? A small vibration at his back, he felt movement. He thought he heard his name.

And the world became an inky, black smear again.

----------------

Seras kicked the door to splinters, and leveled the Harkonen cannon to where Alucard sat in his throne-like chair, carelessly swishing the wine glass in his hand.

She began, her voice somewhere between a growl and a hiss. "We need to talk."

He regarded her coolly, not bothered in the least by her violent intrusion. "It would appear that you want to do far more than talk, Police girl."

"Tell me what happened, _now_."

"Well, you see, I was sitting in my chair, minding my own business, when suddenly, a familiar Draculina burst into my—"

She pulled the trigger and blew of most of Alucard's (and his chair's) right side. His blood was dashed all over the floor, as well as a few chunks of rib and lung.

"Was that _really_ necessary?" he remarked, not moving an inch from his spot.

He was already beginning to heal as Seras inserted another shell in and clicked the chamber closed. "Answer me! What did you do to Jake!?"

"What Sir Integra ordered me to do: prepare him for what's coming."

"By tearing his arm off? Bullshit! Why are you treating him this way, Alucard? You were never this cruel to me, so why make his unlife hell the way you're doing? To entertain yourself?"

Alucard grinned as wide as a slit throat. He stood up from his chair, fully recovered, and began to walk slowly toward her. Reflexively, she began to back away as she felt his shadow on her.

"You want to know why I treat him differently than I did you?" he teased.

Before Seras knew what was happening, she was pinned against the wall, Alucard's nose only centimeters apart from hers.

"Look into my eyes, Police Girl. What do you see?"

Seras remained silent, her jaw tight in disdain.

"The answer is Hell, Police Girl. Hells that I have seen, Hells that have been wrought upon me, and Hells that I have created. I see the same when I look into yours right now...the hatred burning inside your soul, your eyes mutely screaming your outrage... but tell me, do you see the same when you look into _his_? Of course not. While the terror of your life has made you a warrior, the banality of his has made a coward of him. That's why I must continue to do this, until I see the day I see Hell in _his _eyes. Do you understand?"

She stared at the wall, her face screwed in disgust.

"Good," he said condescendingly, backing off and taking his place back in his semi-ruined chair.

Seras picked up her Harkonen cannon off the ground, but before she turned to leave she gave Alucard one last hard stare.

"Alucard," she said, her voice dripping with malice, "you might want to ask Walter to get you a sleeping roll."

"And why is that?" he asked curiously.

Without taking her eyes off Alucard, Seras swiftly aimed the Harkonen 45 degrees to the left, and blew his coffin to pieces.

"Just a feeling." She said, and strode away.

-----------------

Jake's eyes peeled open like a sealed envelope. Garish yellow light swirled around the room, coming into focus on a pair of familiar red eyes.

"Déjà vu, huh?" he said groggily.

Seras looked at him like a concerned parent, laying a hand on his undamaged hand, the one with an I.V. If he had any blood left, he was sure he'd be blushing. He glanced over to his other arm, and was very surprised to see that, in spite of being sewn on and on a raised sling, it was still there.

_Note to self, never pet strange dogs._

Her voice was gentle and serious."You arm will reattach in a day or so. It'll take a few days to get back up to what it was before, but after that it'll be like it never happened."

Jake groaned. "You mean I'll be out of commission for _that_ long?"

Seras blinked, a look of slight confusion on her face. "Jake, your arm just got bitten off. If you were human, you'd be sent home with a lifetime pension.

"Damn it..." he muttered, "I've only been on one mission and already I've seen the sick bay twice."

"Well bloody hell, Jake," he loved the way she said that. To him, her accent somehow amplified her charm, so much so he couldn't resist a subtle smile, "it isn't your fault that damned prick got carried away. You need your rest."

"So Alucard can laugh at me while I'm bedridden and you guys are out cleansing Europe without me? I just got here, Master. I have to prove that I'm worth something, otherwise I'm just another vampire that Sir Hellsing has to put up with. There's got to be a faster way to heal, right?"

Seras' face fell a little. Her eyes scanned the walls, and then the floor, before returning to his own. "Well, I do know _one _other way."

Jake sat up so fast he forgot his arm. It had no trouble reminding him.

"Well," he started, cringing as he laid back again. "what is it?"

Seras took her hand off of his and pulled her sleeve back. She moved closer and held her wrist in front of him.

He stared, confused. "Master?"

"If you drink my blood right now, you'll heal within a few hours. You'll become a Midian, a free vampire, not bound to me anymore. Your power will also grow, and you'll be able to learn things you couldn't before."

The last part echoed in his mind: _not bound to me anymore._ Was she so eager to be rid of him? No, that couldn't be it. He asked a question, and she was answering it, that was all. This decision, however, required very little thought on Jake's part.

"If that's the case... then I think I can wait."

She looked at him as if he were crazy. "What?"

Jake just smiled at her. "Power is a reward, right? Well, I don't think I've earned that yet, and probably won't for a long time. And besides, I can tell you weren't very eager about it yourself. I know that I still have a lot more to learn from you, Master. I don't want to be 'free' until I've learned everything that you can teach me as I am now."

Seras smiled back and pulled her sleeve back over. "Well, in that case, get some rest. I don't want you on your feet until one week's time. And that's an order" she added with a wink.

He replied with a lazy salute with his good arm. "Yes ma'am."

-----------------

A/N Well guys, you know the drill.

Fun fact: During the last chapter, I listened to Slayer's Raining Blood 27 times (heard them play it live along with Manson about a month and a half ago—best concert EVER) . And I _still_ love it.


	12. Rewrite is imminent

I'm very sorry about my lack of updates, and the fact that this isn't a real chapter, but I've taken a long, hard, look at this story, and I've come to a few conclusions. First off, I've painted myself in the corner by making Seras' reaction too over the top. This could only lead to an endless triangle of hatred that would only serve to slow the plot down and create unnecessary tension. Second, I've recently watched my recently-bought DVDs of Hellsing (I'd only seen the fansubs before, about two years ago), and watched Hellsing Ultimate 1-3, and thus am reminded of many, many things that I have overlooked. This also pushes me to create a wider scope for the story itself, instead of being so focused in on two characters, which brings to my final conclusion on the story: it is too rushed and scatterbrained. Granted, I write well when I feel I have a deadline to meet, but this also tends to make my stories, as one reviewer noted, extremely bare bones. I need to put more time and thought into it instead of just posting things hot off the press so I can eagerly await reviews, only to repeat the process over. In general, I realized that this story, while decent as it stands, just doesn't live up to my standards. Now, before you all become enraged with me (some of you may have even stopped reading by now), understand that as I'm typing right now, I am rewriting the first chapter, and planning to add far more to those that follow. Also, Jakes backstory may be changed considerably, as I found much of it to be distracting and irrelevant (don't worry though, the mystery of the finger scars will still be there, and before it is over, will be solved ;) ). All in all, this story needs an overhaul, which I plan to give it in stride. I will probably take down this current story and write it from scratch, I'd like to thank all of you for sticking it out this long. I couldn't do it without your support. Till the next (I mean first) chapter!

(if anyone has suggestions or comments, you all know what to do)


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